


A Special Touch

by Azuremosquito



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4369085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azuremosquito/pseuds/Azuremosquito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrett pays special attention to the tired healer's overworked hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Special Touch

Anders sighed and sat back in his chair with a bone cracking stretch, rubbing aching fingers over his weary face. His candle had burned quite low while he was writing, hunched over his desk in the clinic. He’d lost track of time again, not that that was anything new.

He glanced up at the darkness coming in through the windows high overhead, pressing in around him with its obtrusive presence. Maker, how late was it? Should he even bother heading back to the Estate or just sleep here tonight?

“So here you are. Why am I not surprised?” an amused voice said from behind him.

Anders yelped and jumped so hard he slammed his knees against the underside of his desk. Rubbing his wounded knee, he pushed his chair back and glowered at Garrett, the bearded brunet leaning in the doorway to his clinic, arms folded across his chest.

“What have I told you about coming down here so late? There’s Carta bastards everywhere and they’d love a chance to repay you a few favors.”

“I appreciate your concern, love, but I’m offended you think I can’t handle myself.” Hawke pushed away from the door and approached Anders, tawny eyes appraising. “And why is it any better for you to be down here alone?” He reached out and brushed a strand of Anders’ hair away from his eyes.

Unable to help himself, Anders closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, a soft sigh escaping parted lips. “They don’t bother me anymore,” he mumbled. He was so tired.

He realized Garrett was kneeling in front of him, arms sliding around his waist, bearded face nuzzling at his neck. “You work too hard,” Garrett whispered, pressing kisses across his skin and he shivered. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you in days.” Strong hands were moving up his back, kneading and caressing in equal measure.

“I’m sorry,” Anders whispered, turning his head to kiss Garrett’s ear, his own arms sliding around his lover’s neck. “I’ve been busy.”

“I know.” Warm lips brushed against his pulsepoint. Garrett’s hands slipped underneath his jacket and Anders shrugged out of it, his feathered pauldrons draping over the back of the chair. Their lips met, a slow burning heat building between them.

There was no urgency as Garrett slowly undressed the mage, his rough, calloused hands sliding reverently over every inch of exposed skin. He loved to take his time, show Anders how much he was adored, how much he was treasured. It was a feeling the healer was not used to.

Though Anders was far from inexperienced when he and Garrett had met, his prior sexual encounters had always been quick, desperate trysts, either in a dark corner of the Circle, over before the next Templar patrol could find them, or while on the run, something to earn himself a warm bed for the night. Never had he been allowed the opportunity to linger, to savor the moment.

Garrett took great delight in showing him how. The rogue doted on him, taking an agonizing length of time to explore every inch of Anders’ long, skinny body. He took pride in finding those special places that really made Anders sigh, the ones that made him squirm, the spots that made him come completely undone. Without question, Garrett knew more about Anders’ body than the mage himself did.

Hawke had stripped Anders down to nothing but his boots before removing even a single piece of his own clothing, his mouth and hands exploring lazy paths across the healer’s slender frame. His right arm wrapped securely around narrow hips, keeping the blond pulled close, his left hand fingers laced between Anders’. Soft lips traveled down the length of Anders’ arm, beard tickling when they passed across the tender flesh of his inner wrist.

Anders sighed, his forehead resting against Garrett’s shoulder, his free hand caught within the fabric of his lover’s tunic, tension from the long day draining from him in liquid waves. Garrett was always so patient and attentive, so understanding and supportive. He had never deserved this but he thanked the Maker every day for this marvelous partner, even if their time together, of necessity, could end up painfully short. The more obstinate Elthina became, the more likely that seemed-

Garrett’s mouth closed around his thumb, warm tongue flicking across the pad of skin and Anders jolted upright with a sharp hiss, thoughts scattered to the wind. Garrett’s eyes were fixed on his face, corners crinkled upward in a grin at the mage’s reaction. Without breaking eye contact, Garrett moved to the index finger, sliding the digit slowly into his mouth and sucking on it.

A strangled noise escaped Anders’ lips, his heart racing. No one had ever done that before. There was something so erotic about watching his finger slide in and out of Garrett’s wet lips, his tongue brushing every sensitive nerve ending. Anders trembled, unable to look away as his partner laved each finger with his tongue, sucking on each a moment before moving to the next.

His arousal had been steadily growing but was now all at once painfully hard trapped between their bodies. He grunted, squirming against Garrett and the rogue freed his other arm, sliding the hand down and taking hold of Anders’ erection. The mage groaned, hips twitching as dexterous fingers encircled him, squeezing and stroking, eliciting all sorts of marvelous sensations.

And then that mouth started up again, sliding Anders’ index and middle finger in and out, tongue caressing every bundle of nerves that made hands so sensitive and capable. His cramped, aching, overworked fingers had never felt so wonderful. Anders became putty in Garrett’s hands, shivering and moaning with his face buried in the brunet’s neck.

Hips rocked urgently in his chair, thrusting into Garrett’s hand, a low, desperate whine building within his throat. Every line of muscle in his slim body corded with tension, his breath hitching. Garrett never eased up, skilled fingers curling around and rubbing his aching length, mouth continuing to suck on the mage’s fingers.

Anders felt Garrett’s tongue run along the pads of his fingers and it caused him to unravel completely. With a sharp cry and a jerking of his hips, his release overpowered his senses. His entire body went taut, toes curling within his boots, and then he sagged, boneless into Garrett. The rogue’s arms slid around him, easily supporting his light weight, beard tickling his neck as Garrett nuzzled close.

“Feel better?” Garrett rumbled in a quiet voice, hand stroking Anders’ back with slow curls of his wrist.

“Mmm,” was Anders’ eloquent response, forehead still pressed into Garrett’s shoulder.  

“Good.” Garrett’s arms flexed and lifted him to his feet and he whined a protest. “Oh don’t be such a baby,” Hawke teased. “You can’t sleep in this chair. Well…” he paused in the act of draping Anders’ coat around his shoulders, “I’m fairly certain you  _have_ slept in this chair, but your back won’t thank you for it.”

“Mmm…” Anders replied again, cuddling into his robe and Garrett’s side. The rogue chuckled and slipped his arm around the mage, pressing a kiss into messy blond hair. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Love you,” Anders mumbled, already half asleep on his feet after the relaxing pleasure of his release.

“Love you, too.”


End file.
